


Stitches

by suyari



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blanket Forts, Comfort, Cuddling, Fluff, Healing, M/M, PTSD, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blanket forts had changed in construction in seventy years - or perhaps it was simply the construction materials. Bucky really didn’t remember much, but he absorbed it all with a professional eye as he went, unable to stop after years of conditioning. Steve didn’t mention it, merely lead him to the middle and settled down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt Fill.

“Aww, come on, Buck,” Steve cajoled, tugging his hand. “For old time’s sake.” 

Bucky looked at the blanket fort dubiously, feet planted against the carpet of the communal space. “I don’t know, Steve…”

“We used to do it all the time. Whenever…”

“Grown men don’t-”

“You built me one when my Ma died,” Steve replied quietly, looking down for a moment. His fingers flexed against Bucky’s. “I told you I’d be fine, you told me we’d put the cushions down like when we were kids. I spent an hour in the bathroom crying and when I came out…”

Bucky sighed. “This isn’t going to fix me, Steve.”

“It can’t hurt,” Steve pointed out. 

Bucky’s eyes flicked up, meeting Steve’s from the corners under long lashes. “I don’t think anything’s going to fix me,” he admitted. 

“Nothing to fix,” Steve replied, tugging. 

Blanket forts had changed in construction in seventy years - or perhaps it was simply the construction materials. Bucky really didn’t remember much, but he absorbed it all with a professional eye as he went, unable to stop after years of conditioning. Steve didn’t mention it, merely lead him to the middle and settled down. 

Bucky folded his legs and sat, but Steve lay back. It always jarred Bucky when he did things like that. Made himself vulnerable, exposed himself to injury. It made him feel…uncomfortable. In ways he couldn’t explain. Except that he knew if Steve was going to expose himself, he was going to protect him. It was in his bones. How they’d managed to get him to hunt Steve, to fight Steve, to _hurt_ Steve...He reached out for him and Steve tugged him by the wrist gently. It was an invitation, not an order, which was why Bucky’s body went immediately boneless. Steve meant for him to lay beside him, he was sure, but Steve was lying on his back in a structurally unsound, open aired, fully exposed location. So Bucky lay on top of him. 

Steve’s mouth quirked up in one corner as Bucky’s arms settled protectively on either side of his head. “No one’s gonna hurt me, Buck,” he soothed, hands stroking over Bucky’s back in long, endless touches that made Bucky’s body relax despite his best efforts to retain tactical advantage. 

“You trust too easily, punk,” he replied. 

Steve laughed, body rocking slightly beneath his. 

Their legs tangled. 

Steve’s hands slipped into his hair. 

Bucky didn’t know if it was the petting, the surroundings, or some strange combination of both, but he couldn’t help the unwinding of the perpetual knot in his gut. Relaxation easing the set of his shoulders, his neck dropped forward, head tucking against the side of Steve’s. It was stupid. It was so, _so_ very stupid. But he felt...he felt…

“Better?” Steve murmured. 

Bucky swallowed and burrowed against him, eyes squeezing shut. 

Steve hummed as if it was perfectly normal and wrapped his arms around him tightly.


End file.
